Hank And Manny's Excellent Adventure, Part One - Swiss Army Man
by cuddyclothes
Summary: It's getting too cold to stay in the woods. So Hank and Manny find a beach house. It's a beautiful house, but it feels strange to be indoors.


"Can't we keep Fofo? He's been a good dog."

"Sorry, no." Hank pulled apart the water bottles. "It's too bad, the Plunketts were good neighbors."

"They were fun at our sing-alongs. I'm not gonna miss the Waltons, though."

"Me neither. Assholes." Hank piled the water bottles next to the remains of the Plunketts. He and Manny had spent the better part of two days dismantling their home. Hank wanted to leave as little evidence that anything had been here other than garbage.

The trashcans had gotten emptier as the summer people moved away. Hank had to search farther afield, unnervingly close to the actual town where the year-rounders lived. Hank had even considered dumpster diving behind the diner. But getting caught was far too dangerous. So he was bringing back less food. Manny ate very little, but still, he had to eat something. Otherwise his farts weren't good for much except noise.

Fortunately there were still rabbits and raccoons. They'd tried eating banana slugs, but the huge yellow things were simply too disgusting. Even after boiling them to get rid of the slime.

Finally, Hank was reduced to scavenging the dumpsters behind the small restaurants that were still open after the summer people left. There was a fair amount of food, but the worry he'd get caught made him often wonder if it was worth it. But he couldn't risk Manny and the camp being discovered.

"Where should we go, Hank?"

"Let's ask your special compass."

"Okay." Manny closed his eyes. Soon a truly impressive erection showed itself. It pointed at Hank. Hank moved three feet to the side. The compass followed him. He moved three feet to the other side. The compass swung around.

"Dammit, Manny, stop that!"

Manny's eyes opened. He stared down at his erection, pointing at Hank. "I'm sorry, Hank, I can't help it."

"Okay, let's try this." Hank walked around behind Manny. The erection moved back and forth, looking for him, Hank guessed. But then it moved and pointed. Hank followed its direction, and made a calculation.

"Your wang is guiding us home. Southeast. That's where the beach houses are. They'll all be empty until spring."

"That's great, Hank! They'll have food, and blankets, and maybe an entertainment system!"

Hank laughed. "Yeah, buddy, and I can show you things you've never seen, like real chairs."

"I'm gonna see chairs! Parlors! Curtains, like the ones Scarlett made her dress out of! Rugs! Chandeliers!"

"No, not chandeliers, Manny, but yeah, chairs. We'll pick ourselves a place, and it will be just right."

"Okay, Hank. What is right?"

"Right means what we need now. We'll find it, trust me. Just trust me."

When night fell, Hank packed as much as he could carry, along with Manny, and they made their way east.

"I'm going to miss our home," Manny said sadly.

"Me too," Hank agreed. He carried so much he felt like a pack mule. By now, he barely felt Manny's weight when he carried him. But he had bags and bundles tied all over his body, as well as bags tied to Manny.

It was still dark when they reached the beach. The air was unpleasantly cold, with a salty tang. The ocean was black, roaring dully. Manny had fallen asleep some time ago, his snores next to Hank's ear.

"Manny, buddy, wake up!"

A loud snuffle and snort, Manny's head shifted. "Wha—wha—where are we?"

"The beach. By the ocean."

"Remember when you swam after me, Hank?"

"Yeah." Hank chuckled. "I almost drowned."

"But you didn't."

"Thanks to you, Manny." Hank made his way along the beach, following the ocean. "I hate being at the beach in the winter. It's gonna be different, being with you."

Hank staggered along the dunes, staring up at the various houses.

"Let's go up there and check them out, okay? My back's starting to hurt."

"I'm sorry I can't walk, Hank."

"It's okay, buddy, I like carrying you. I just don't like it when you sneeze."

They reached the crest of the dune, facing empty beach houses. Huge, boxy, they were crammed into small lots. Their dark windows looked like empty eyes.

"I've never seen so many McMansions before," Hank said.

"What's a McMansion?"

"Well, it's—it's—see how big those houses are?"

"Yeah."

"These houses are on little pieces of land. Houses like this are supposed to be on big pieces of land, like Scarlett's plantation, Tara. But they're not, so they're called McMansions. It's kind of a joke."

"I don't get it."

Hank walked up and down the driveways until a yellow house caught his eye. It was perfect. Three stories high, painted light yellow, white trim, with an ornamental brick wall. None of the other houses had walls, just hedges or log fences.

"This is it, Manny!" Hank whooped. "I can feel it!"

"Me too!"

Manny's compass was starting to point into the small of Hank's back.

"Stop feeling it, Manny, not now."

"I'm sorry, Hank, I can't always control it."

"It's okay, buddy. Stay quiet, we don't want anybody to hear us."

They approached the empty house, its curtains drawn. The driveway curved around toward the beach front. There was no wall facing the ocean. The garage also faced the beach. Hank looked in all directions for any signs of life. Save for the ocean, there were none.

"Yeah, this is it! Nobody will see us here!" Hank divested himself of his bundles and slid Manny onto the ground. Manny sat against the bundles, staring at the house in wonder.

"You stay there, but yell if you see anybody."

Hank skirted around the house. There was no alarm system that he could see. No motion center lights—right, the electricity was probably off. He returned to Manny.

There was a windowed door alongside the garage door. Hank peered in; it was a laundry room piled with children's plastic furniture. "This'll do it, buddy!"

"Do you want me to break the door like we did at the locker room?"

The window had a simple latch. "No, don't worry, I can do it." Hank grabbed a knife from one of the bags. It was the work of a few minutes to slip the knife between the two windowsills and move the latch. Hank slid open the window and crawled in. There was a door on the other side of the room. It was unlocked. Hank swung it open to discover the garage. The garage was filled with beach equipment, ladders, tools, construction materials, bicycles, a plastic wading pool, surfboards...Hank let out an ecstatic whoop and did a hoppity little happy dance. A home for the winter! No more shivering in the lean-to! He ran back outside.

"Manny, it's great! It's our new home!"

"You did it, Hank! We should call it Tara!"

"Tara! Our home on the beach!" Hank laughed with relief. He carried in the bags and bundles, stowing them in a far corner of the garage, behind the surfboards. Then he carried in Manny, setting him gently by the wading pool.

"Stay there while I have a look around, Manny."

"I wanna come, too!"

Despite Manny's pleas, Hank opened the door into the house and discovered-

An elevator.

"Oh my god, Manny, there's an elevator!" Hank shouted. "There is a fucking ELEVATOR!" He punched the button, but nothing happened.

"What's an elevator?"

"I gotta find the fuse box, turn on the electricity, and that'll turn on the elevator. Then I'll find the water valve."

"I have a lot of questions about what you just said."

Hank looked around the garage but didn't see anything. He went into the laundry room. He closed and re-locked the window. Sure enough, the green fuse box was on the wall near the dryer. There were labels on all of the switches. Hank wasn't sure to start with, so he switched on ELEVATOR and MASTER BEDROOM. He was startled by a loud, grinding and whirring noise.

"Hank, what is that?" Manny yelled from the garage.

"The elevator!" He ran in and picked up Manny in his arms. "Wait'll you see it! We'll put a chair in it, and you can go up and down!"

This time, there was a lit number, "1". Hank punched the button and the door opened.

"Whoa—what is _that_?" Manny's hands tightened on Hank's shoulder.

"It's okay, buddy, just hold on, okay?"

Hank stepped into the elevator and pulled the inner door shut. He pushed the 3 button. With a slight shudder, the elevator lifted slowly. "See, nothing to be afraid of!"

"I don't like it."

The door opened into a huge kitchen, living area and dining room, all in one huge room lined with windows. The blinds were all drawn. Everything was white: the furniture, walls, decorations, a wall of shelves filled with seaside knick-knacks and conch shells. Hank let out another whoop. "We have hit the fucking _jackpot_ , Manny! Tara is going to be the best!" He dropped Manny onto a large, long oatmeal-colored couch.

"This is soft!" Manny exclaimed. "Hank, look! A home entertainment system!" He pointed to the other side of the living area. A huge flat-screen TV dominated the wall.

"Yes! Yes! Yes!" Hank went to turn on the TV. "We'll watch Netflix all winter!" It didn't turn on. Of course, the electricity. Hank pounded down the stairs to the laundry room. He flipped the switches LIVING ROOM, DINING ROOM, KITCHEN. He made sure not to touch the outside light switches. He ran back up to the third floor and landed in front of the TV.

"Okay, buddy, strap in!" Hank said, and turned on the TV. And got a flickering, buzzing screen. He tried changing the channels manually on it, but couldn't find the buttons.

"TV is beautiful," Manny said, mesmerized by the TV screen.

"No, it's not beautiful, that's not what we're supposed to see. I gotta find the cable box." Hank swung open the cabinet underneath the TV. He turned on the cable but nothing happened. He searched for the remote. Then he fiddled with it, changing channels, changing inputs, but nothing happened. There was no DVD player. "SHIT!"

"What, Hank?"

"They turned off the goddamn cable! Goddamn it to fuck! Assholes!"

"This isn't Netflix?"

Hank controlled himself. "No, Manny, it's not Netflix. This is everything being turned off. We can't turn it on because it's probably been disconnected." He sat on the floor in front of the TV and flipped it off. Then he shrugged. "So, no Netflix. It's okay, buddy, we don't need Netflix."

"Can I watch the TV some more, please, Hank? TV is beautiful."

"Sure, whatever." Hank flipped the TV on to the flickering screen and turned down the sound. If it kept Manny happy while Hank nosed around, it was fine. Shit.

"We'll have to turn on the water, too," Hank observed.

"Why?"

"Houses have to have the water turned on. It's not like streams or rivers—or you—where you can just get water whenever you want."

"That's retarded!"

"Don't use that word."

The water heater and valve were in the garage. Hank turned them on and went back upstairs. Manny was still watching the flickering TV screen. The kitchen was huge and modern, with granite counters. He went to the sink and cautiously turned on the cold water. After some loud banging, water flowed out. "MANNY! I GOT WATER! I GOT WATER!"

"So do I," said Manny, obviously offended.

"Buddy, you can take showers too, we can wash our clothes, we can do all sorts of stuff!" He flipped the lights on and off, excitement nearly exploding out of him. The kitchen cabinets had salt, pepper, spices, canned goods and boxes of rice and pasta. " _There's two cases of dog food!"_

Hank dropped onto the couch next to Manny and gave him a smacking kiss. "Manny, we're set for the winter. We're on vacation! Come on."

The floor below was all bedrooms. Hank and Manny explored the bedrooms, Manny pulling the drawers open and shut. Sheets, blankets, clothes, a pair of headphones with nothing to plug them in.

Back upstairs, Hank placed Manny back on the couch. "No, Hank, I want to sit on the floor. This is too soft."

"Okay." Hank slid Manny to the floor, leaning him back against the couch. The events of the day hit him suddenly, leaving him so tired he could have fallen over and been out before his face hit the rug. "Why don't we take a nap? I'm fucking tired."

"Yeah, me too." Hank took Manny's legs and gently pulled him into a lying position, then lay on the floor next to him. Manny was right, the furniture was too soft.

The sound of the ocean lulled them to sleep. Maybe Hank wouldn't hate the beach so much in the winter after all.


End file.
